


The Trials of Destiny: Book 4 of The Bond Series

by Foreverwolf_6



Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Drowning, Druids, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Obsession, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Psychological Drama, Slash, Torture, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwolf_6/pseuds/Foreverwolf_6
Summary: Obsessed with breaking the Link, Merlin puts his sanity on the line. Feeling he has no choice, Arthur invokes the Magic Trials, a test that could cost them both not only their lives, but the Bond itself. Can they find their back to each other before it's too late? Established MERTHUR. MerlimWHUMP! Protective!Caring!Arthur. SLASH. Mostly T, some graphic scenes (slash and torture).
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022760
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**FOUR MONTHS AGO**

Arthur groaned as he slowly rose to consciousness. Every muscle in his body felt like he had volunteered to be the practice dummy for a month. Felt loose, like those muscles had been stretched to their limit, then failed to snap back entirely.

"Here, Sire, drink this." A cup appeared at his lips, and he eagerly took it. His throat and mouth were parched, like he hadn't had water for months. "Slowly. You know better."

Having satisfied himself, Arthur let his head drop back, and his eyes open. He slammed them shut as the bright sunlight hit them. He heard a rustling, then the light was gone.

"Thank you," he groaned. He let his eyes open again, and smiled. "Artemis, this is becoming a habit," he greeted.

The old druid chuckled. "Indeed, Sire. Though it is one I would gladly break."

Arthur closed his eyes again, exhausted but enjoying the feeling of the remedy Artemis had given him slowly easing his aches. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Arthur thought. And remembered, his eyes flying open as he shot up. "Merlin! Artemis, the magic he channeled…"

Artemis put up soothing hands. "Your Consort is resting, Sire. I have done all I can for him."

"Is he all right?"

"I believe he will be, with time. Sleep is what he needs most. I've put salve on his burns. They are severe, but I think with care he'll have full use of them, if not a little stiffness and some age pains in bad weather. He is fortunate a sword is not his primary weapon."

Arthur looked around the room then, eyes looking for anything different. "Did we … no, you wouldn't know. The fact that you're here means we must have succeeded on some level," he spoke to himself more than the druid.

"I'm aware of your recent adventures, Arthur. Part of them, at least. As a Seer, there are some things more clear to me than others, but I believe you were both fully successful. I believe the timeline has been restored exactly as it was."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, flopping back. "Thank the gods." Another thought occurred to him. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Four days. The stress on your bodies was severe, Sire. It will take time to put that right," Artemis answered, giving him another cup of fluid. "The spell young Emrys performed in less than peak condition used almost as much of your strength as it did his."

Arthur scrunched his nose as soon as the smell hit him- Artemis's potions tasted no better than Gaius's had- but he willingly drank it. "Do you know how long we were gone?"

Artemis shook his head. "There is no way to know for sure, Arthur. And no one else is aware. To them, you suddenly appeared after your journey to the Crystal Cave to save Merlin, both of you unconscious. There would be other magical beings aware of what happened- much in the same sense as I am- but only knowing that something important had almost been lost and had been saved through powerful magic. But to us, you were gone about a week."

Arthur sighed, settling himself more comfortably. Every part of him wanted to go see his lover, but Artemis had stressed how important sleep was for him, the tone of voice suggesting he would not be pleased with any interruptions to his prescription. "So, fill me in on what's happened while we were gone."

He tried very hard not to smile when Artemis immediately went into the details regarding the slow repair of Prince Durstan's relationship with the Queen Regent. He had long ago discovered the old man was wise, quiet, confident… and quite the gossip!

_**MERLIN101010101101010110MERLIN** _

Gwen smiled as she walked in, seeing her King sitting on the edge of the sorcerer's bed, washing the bare skin with a tender care.

"There are servants for that, you know," she pointed out fondly, announcing her presence as she took a seat on the chair next to the bed, her knees touching Arthur's. A solid presence to remind him he had friends who cared.

Arthur shot her a smirk, not stopping his ministrations. "And let them touch what's mine?" He pretended to look aghast, shuddering visibly at the very thought. "I'd have them beheaded."

She laughed, giving him a shove. "You're such a child, Arthur." He grinned at her and shrugged. "Artemis says he'll be fine, that he just needs rest," she reassured. She sent a sad look at the heavily bandaged hands. "And time to heal, though they will scar badly."

Arthur nodded. "I know. This is for my own indulgence. Might as well get it while I can. I doubt he'll be speaking to me when he wakes up."

Gwen frowned. "Did things go badly in the Crystal Caves?"

"I did what I had to do," Arthur answered quietly.

Gwen nodded, accepting. Then she sighed, chewing her bottom lip. Time to get to it, she thought. "Arthur, the Council are… concerned. There's some rather unpleasant talk going around."

The King nodded calmly. "My eyes." He had already seen the double takes, the strange looks he'd received whenever he'd been around the castle. None had had enough courage to speak to him directly about it yet, and he'd been content to leave it alone until someone was. Except, of course, Prince Durstan. The sight had sent the poor man into prayer for hours. "Cowards couldn't confront me themselves so they sent you. The very woman they argued vehemently against when I announced your regency has become their shield," he snorted in disgust. "You're too good to them."

"Arthur, be kind. You have been… harsh… on those who dared to tread too closely to Merlin in the past," Gwen pointed out. "They are concerned you've been enchanted."

Arthur hesitated, wondering how much to tell her. He lost himself for a moment in enjoying the feel of the wash cloth sliding over the smooth chest of his lover, trailing his fingers lightly after it. He had no way to describe the fear he'd experienced when the younger man had been in control of all that power, when he'd looked and found it was Emrys he was seeing, not his Merlin. In that moment, he'd thought his love lost to the ancient powers he communed with. When the being in front of him hadn't flinched from the hatred in Morgana's voice, had confirmed with a great deal of sadness that their final battle was yet to come, reaching out with ruined hands for both of them. He'd thought then he may never get this chance to touch again, to feel the younger man's steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. Yes, he thought, he was thoroughly enchanted. But not as the Council feared.

"It is of _my_ own making," he finally answered. Arthur slowly moved his eyes to connect with hers, and gathered up the Bond to him, let it fill him, let all the threads he had created surround him. He took in the sense of his lover, of a deep, healing slumber. He felt it reach automatically along connection he'd made with Merlin. He gave a light tug on the hum of power flowing through it. He heard her gasp when he deliberately pushed that power toward his eyes, felt the gold crowns burn for a moment, before he allowed it to fade away, letting himself slip out of the Bond. "Do _you_ believe I have been influenced by it?"

Gwen hesitated. "Arthur, that was… certainly not natural. But I do believe that _you_ control _it_ ," she answered, nodding to herself. "That is what I will tell the Council. Did it… did it happen because of the Cave? Durstan was very worried while you were gone."

Arthur shook up his head, dropping the cloth in the wash water, disappointed that his task was finished. He allowed his fingers to trail up and down the bare arm closest to him as he spoke, unable and unwilling to stop touching. "In a way, I suppose. He needed help, needed shields he'd refused to build himself. I used the Bond to reach out to him, to create them for him. I didn't know it would mix with the ancient magic in the Cave, didn't know the combination of the two would leave a permanent mark. And if I _had_ known- I still would have done it." He nodded at Merlin. "His eyes are the same. The gold is in them all the time now, not just when he uses magic. Personally, I think it's rather attractive on him. Not as nice as when they go completely gold, mind you, but still attractive."

Gwen smiled at him. "You've come so far, Arthur. It wasn't so very long ago that you weren't able to be accepting of his magic. And now… now you wield a power all of your own with as much confidence and surety as he does his."

"None of it seems to overly shock you, either. I'm impressed at- and sincerely grateful for- how supportive you've been to both of us," Arthur replied, shying away from her intended compliment. "And the only reason he had to wait until I became King is because I was too much of a coward to stand up to my father for him, still wanted my father's approval. Believe me, had I known then what I do now, things would have turned out very differently."

"Durstan has told me what he knows. And I have seen for myself how it saved Merlin's life. You've always been close with him, Arthur. The more I learn about your destiny together, the less of what the two of you do surprises me," she laughed. She sobered. "It's not dangerous to you, the Prince told me, though he admitted these bonds are so rare that little can be taken as fact. But I saw, Arthur. I _saw_ you go into it too deeply."

Arthur shook his head firmly. "The Bond itself is not dangerous to me. I've been assured of that from many sources. My choices in wielding it, however, can be. The same as any tool." He took a deep breath. She needed to know. "But, there is something you, and you _alone_ , should know."

Gwen gave him a look of concern. "Arthur, what is it?"

"Do you truly understand how _much_ I love him?" Her expression softened, and she nodded. "I was going to lose him, Gwen. He was _never_ going to stop throwing himself in front of me. I understand it's his destiny to protect me. But you have to know, I _can't_ watch him die again. I won't survive it. I told you before we left for the Cave- his last breath would be my own. The only way to protect _me_ is to protect _him_. I did what I _had_ to do."

Gwen reached over and put her hand over his. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she smiled at him. She had known from the first moment Arthur had revealed the Bond to her that it could never end any other way. "Arthur, I understand. You don't have to say it. I think I knew the first time I saw your eyes." She looked over to the slumbering man on the bed. "But he… Arthur, he'll never accept it."

"He will. He has no choice."


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur drew in a deep breath, desperately trying to calm his fury as he strode through the corridors. Four months had passed since they'd returned to find they had been successful in saving the future they knew to be their own. That success had not come without a price, however.

Another future had made itself clear to him. A future of watching Merlin hurl himself in front of every danger that would ever come at the King. A certainty that he would lose the man he loved, the man he _needed_ to make any day worth facing, to such an action. He'd felt the threads of Fate slip firmly into place, becoming stronger the longer he'd hesitated. So he had taken the only steps he felt he could to protect his beloved. He had Linked their life forces. If one ended, so would the other.

Merlin had been devastated, horrified by Arthur's betrayal. He'd felt it, of course, slip into place. Just as Arthur had. There had been no doubt he would, since Arthur has used some of his own magic to seal the link. They hadn't spoken of it again until Merlin had finally woken from his long sleep. Merlin had begged him to help him find a way to break it, promised that it would be all right, that they just had to speak to the Dragon. Told Arthur he forgave his unknowing use a power he didn't understand.

Watching the boys' expression when Arthur had calmly replied that he'd known _exactly_ what he was doing, and had no intention of breaking it, had been like delivering a physical blow to the warlock. A blow likely would have hurt him less. Anger, shock, and betrayal had all flared up again.

Merlin had raged at him until he'd exhausted his temporary reserves, falling once again into unconsciousness, one last final plea on his lips as he'd slipped under.

Arthur had taken the verbal abuse, had remained serene in his conviction that he'd done the right thing. He could survive Merlin being angry at him. He couldn't survive him being dead. If this link forced the warlock to hesitate to throw away his own life, then he thought he'd been willing to gladly pay that price.

It was turning out to be higher than he expected. It had taken a month for Merlin to recover from channeling the vast magics that his young, poison weakened, body had not been ready for. From the moment he could stand on his own, however, the warlock had spent every moment buried in books, searching for a way to break the Link.

As the search dragged from days into weeks, the Court Sorcerer had forsaken all else. Including Arthur, his friends, his duties- everything other than the search. The castle saw less and less of him as time stretched on. Many tried to distract him, tried to draw him out, but all were harshly rebuffed until they stopped trying. Eventually, even loyal Gwaine had decided to leave over, to understand nothing was going to penetrate the intense desperation. Ian was the only one the sorcerer had failed to chase away, though Arthur suspected a genuine effort had been made.

The King wasn't even positive the younger man was aware Yule was a little over a week away. He hadn't seen sunlight, with the rare occasion of his forays out to see the Great Dragon, for months. He'd become withdrawn, silent, and a shell of his former energy. He spoke to no one unless it involved finding information. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the boy smile. Or, seen him at all, for that matter. If it hadn't been for Ian, the King was sure the warlock's chambers would be dust from disuse.

Arthur himself was at his wits end. He was frustrated, angry, and feeling hopeless. He knew that the very thing he had sought to protect was being threatened. That this Link may be their breaking point. His temper grew shorter, and he would walk away from anyone who mentioned Merlin's name to him. There was nothing he could do, no command he could give, that he hadn't already tried to end this. His anger had only driven the younger man further into his self-induced seclusion.

Since no one but Gwen knew about the Link- and perhaps sneaky Artemis, who had decided that Theos was perhaps not the best choice in a Physician for Camelot and decided to stay- he couldn't explain to them what was happening, what was causing the distance between the King and his Consort. All they knew was that something in the Caves had driven Merlin slightly mad. Arthur had said nothing to disabuse them of the idea.

Still, however difficult it was to love a ghost, Arthur couldn't deny that his feelings toward the younger man hadn't changed. He knew what was driving Merlin, knew the link had put a terror in him that the brave youth was unaccustomed to feeling. For however much he often whined, actual fear was rare for the powerful warlock. The King knew he'd never been overly well equipped to handle it. Despite his fury, Arthur would no more considering abandoning the younger man now than he had through any of their previous challenges.

He needed to find a way to end this. Since neither man would give over, that meant alternative measures. A talk with Artemis had opened up one possibility, but it would be incredibly risky, and the druid had been strongly against it. He had made it clear, however, that he would abide by Arthur's final decision, since he could offer up no alternative solutions himself. Merlin would not listen to reason from _anyone_.

So now he was determined to make one last attempt to make his lover see sense. He'd intended to be more diplomatic with this attempt. That had lasted until his Consort had ignored yet _another_ summons from him- something he'd done frequently over the months- and forced the King to go looking for him. He hadn't been surprised when the Bond had directed him to the secret archives- a room with all the magical items and books his father had ever confiscated- since the sorcerer rarely left them. He wished now he'd dared to look deeper into the Bond before coming- it would have prepared him for the sight he walked into. His fury left him, leaving only shock and fear.

The warlock was unconscious- his breathing too irregular to be sleep- over a small desk with an open book under his cheek. For the first time in weeks he got a good look at the man he loved beyond reason. Dark circles were prevalent against ash white skin, cheek bones sharp against the hollow of his face. The fine clothes hung from the already delicate frame. The dark sable mop of hair was long and shaggy, and at least a week's of growth covered the lower half of his face.

The King's heart shattered at the sight.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked the faithful shadow in the corner, grateful for its silent presence.

Ian, Merlin's manservant, stepped forward. "About an hour, My Lord. He only stops when he's unconscious, Sire, and it'll be days before he stops again, so I've made no efforts to wake him."

"How long will he be out?"

"I don't know, Sire. Each time, it takes longer for him to wake. I'm sorry, your Majesty, for not caring for him better. But the last time I tried to carry him to his chambers while he was unconscious, he forbade me to serve him for over a week. At least when I'm with him, I can force him to eat on occasion, bathe," Ian tried to explain anxiously. "I felt my presence of more benefit than my absence."

Arthur nodded, waving a hand to soothe the servant. "I know, Ian. You made the right choice. Go to the kitchens and get him some food, and see if Artemis is willing to make some of his tea for him." Ian bowed and moved to obey, when the King looked at him. "And Ian? Thank you, for being so loyal to him. I know you've done all you can. You're likely the only thing that's kept him alive this long." It wasn't quite true- Merlin would never let himself get to the point of risking Arthur's life through the Link, but it was close enough, since it was surprising how little the human body needed to continue living. Ian dipped his head in gratitude to the compliment, and left.

Arthur knelt next to the seated figure, allowing his fingers to trace skin he hadn't touched in months, knowing it would likely be some time before he could touch again. "This is for your own good, you _stubborn_ ass! Why can't you see that, Love?" Arthur whispered in despair, allowing his hurt to come through. He placed a kiss on the temple, allowing himself a moment to take in the scent of his lover. "Please don't make me do this," he begged, knowing the result if he failed here.

Sighing, he moved his hand, giving the fragile shoulder a gentle shake. "Merlin!" A firmer shake finally had gold crowned azure eyes fluttering open. They didn't seem him at first, then seemed to focus and track him.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, sitting up. He looked around and frowned. "What are you doing here?" For a moment, he looked on the edge of being happy to see his lover. Then everything seemed to come back to him, and his eyes widened a little. His expression settled into a scowl. "I'm busy."

"Do you understand that you weren't actually asleep just now? That you were unconscious?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not, Merlin… this has to stop," Arthur pleaded quietly.

Merlin shook his head, shifting his body in such a way that managed to shake off Arthur's hand on his shoulder as well as sit up to hunch over the book again. His eyes automatically skimming until he found where he had been. "It has to be here."

"Kilgharrah has already told you how to break the link," Arthur hesitated to remind him. "Have you ever doubted anything he's told you before?"

Merlin growled. "There has to be another way. I _will_ find it!"

"There isn't. All your research all says the same thing. Only _I_ can break the link," Arthur replied firmly. "You can't keep going like this. Look at you! Do you even _remember_ what food and sleep are? It kills me to see you like… " he hesitated, but he had to say it. " _We_ can't go on like this, Merlin."

"Then _break_ it," Merlin urged, finally looking from the page to his King, his eyes pleading. " _Please_ , Arthur, break the link." He grabbed his lover's hand, hoping the physical connection would help Arthur to know how important this was. He even dropped a kiss onto them. "Please!"

It hurt the King when he shook his head in denial, even as he soaked in the physical touch, the soft lips on the top of his hands. Gods, but he missed the younger man. Everything in him was built to give in to that plea, that request of want so rare from the warlock. But giving in had cost them dearly in the past, and Arthur had learned to recognize when he had to stand firm. It was a little easier, to know Merlin had deliberately ignored anything else he'd said, focusing only on his sole ability to control the link.

"You know I won't, Love. I _can't_." Arthur took a deep breath to steady his convictions. "I can't lose you like that."

"Arthur," Merlin closed his eyes. The months of separation from his lover were hurting, him, too. But Arthur's life would always come first, and that meant completing this, _finding_ a way. The King simply had no way of knowing what was at stake. "You don't understand."

"I do, Merlin," Arthur answered softly. "All too well, I'm afraid."

Merlin's expression hardened in resolve. He threw down the hands he had been holding, and physically turned his entire body away from his King. "Go away, Arthur. I have to get back to work," he spit out coldly.

Arthur could see he'd been shut out. He took a deep breath. Pretty words, it seemed, were going to fail him yet again. He stood, a firm resolve growing in him. He watched as Ian came in with a tray, looking so hopeful, saw his expression drop when he recognized the distance between the King and his Consort was palpable.

Arthur observed for a few minutes more, watched while Ian tried, unsuccessfully, to coax Merlin to eat from the tray. Watched him give up, insisting that Merlin drink the special Herbal Tea Artemis had been making to help replace the vitamins he was refusing to intake through food.

Then he turned and walked out, shivering as the cold certainty of what he had to do settled into him. He stopped for a moment next to the man waiting outside the door, hesitating only for a moment before his voice icily called out, "Do it. Make the plea for the Trials. I will abide by the Judgement."

The warlock was already lost to him if things remained as they were.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So... slash ahead... Non-Graphic description. Barely worth a warning if you've read the series this far, lol. But. Trying to appease all. So. For what it's worth, you've been warned.
> 
> MERLIN101010101101MERLIN

"Merlin, I don't care whether you want to go or not," Arthur growled out. "You are Lord of Ealdor, and it is your _duty_ to collect the taxes, in person. Since you lack the excuse of dying, or needing to time travel, or being temporarily insane, that means you go."

It had taken three summons and a dire threat to burn down the secret archives if Merlin failed to appear before him again. He'd almost felt sorry for the harried Ian running messages back and forth between them. Now he was faced with a very agitated warlock while he had to pretend to enjoy a meal while delivering the news.

"In winter? Are _you_ insane?" Merlin shouted, waving his hand toward the window. Which was a ridiculous gesture, Arthur thought, since it was a beautiful day. Still, this was the most lively Arthur had seen the boy in months, and he couldn't resist teasing a little.

"Gwen actually has a lovely new cloak that she's desperate to see you wear. Apparently it matches the also new clothes she made," Arthur grinned, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth. Grown in the green house that Merlin kept magically regulated, they weren't quite as flavorful as those grown in gardens, but certainly a welcome treat so close to Yule. "This feels like an excellent opportunity."

Merlin's scowl deepened. "She _does_ know I can dress myself, doesn't she? I'm not a doll." He caught the tomato Arthur threw at him, instinctively throwing it in his own mouth in his frustration. Biting down, he cocked his head. "Remind me I need to adjust the greenhouse."

Arthur nodded. "So, we leave at first light."

"What do you mean, 'we'? I thought you said _I_ had to go. You never said anything about _you_ going!" Merlin complained.

Arthur clamped down on the rush of hurt that filled him. It wasn't so long ago that the possibility of them not going together would never have occurred to either one. "Yes, well, I rather enjoy the idea of spending Yule with Hunith. I'm curious to see how the smaller villages celebrate it."

Merlin snorted. "Don't exaggerate, Arthur. It's only two days there, collect the taxes, and return. We'll be back long before Yule."

"Merlin," Arthur said softly, putting down the cheese he had been eating, suddenly losing his appetite, not even able to pretend anymore. Everything he had consumed prior now left the after taste of ash in his mouth. "Yule is in four days."

Merlin stopped pacing, then. He looked at his King, looking for any sign of a lie. When he found none, he sagged down into the chair across the desk from Arthur. "It really is, isn't it?" He leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees, and dropped his hand into his hands. "Arthur, how did we get here?"

"Stubbornness," Arthur replied gently, with a smile to take the sting from the words. "On both sides."

"We… we can't come back from this, can we?" Merlin asked, tears gathering in his eyes. He refused to regret his all-consuming search to break the link that was such a threat to his King's life. But he regretted this realization. This knowledge that he was right, that in this quest he had sacrificed the love that kept his soul alive. There was darkness, waiting on the edges, for that love to finally fail. The foundations on which he had stood for years slowly crumbling away.

Arthur took a deep breath, every part of him desperate to reach out and take the broken man into his arms. To hold out the world until Merlin was ready to face it again. But he couldn't. Merlin was right.

"Not on our own." Not as long as neither of them were willing to back down. He licked his lips. "Do you want to? Go back, I mean, to what we were."

Merlin nodded miserably in his hands, shoulders shaking with the strain of months of tension between them, the knowledge of all he had lost. One more sacrifice demanded of him to fulfill a destiny he felt crushed him more every day. "Gods yes. What I wouldn't give to take back that day, Arthur." He lifted his head to look at his King, his heart, his reason for existing. Tears moistened his cheeks. "I miss you," he confessed.

Arthur was suddenly kneeling in front of him, hands cupping the face he still loved with every breath. "I'm right here, Love. I will _always_ be here," Arthur whispered, his own cheeks wet, as he dove in to capture the boys' lips. He ignored the slight salt on them, thrust his tongue to meet the one already seeking his. Gave himself over to the frantic hands that were desperate to remove any barrier of clothing, urgently seeking skin.

Their love making was filled with loss, hope, and regret. It lacked their usual finesse, their consideration for each other, filled instead with simple desire, and need for their damaged connection. Tenderness was surrendered for raw passion.

When their cries of completion rang through the room, Arthur held his lover tightly as he wept, sobbing out his apologies. He whispered reassurance to the younger man that they weren't broken, that they could come back. He kissed away tears almost as fast as they could fall, kissed the warlock as if their lives depended on their lips never leaving each other. Trapped the boy firmly in his arms until they both fell into an exhausted slumber.

When the King woke several hours afterwards, he felt his heart shatter, felt his own tears fall again, letting out a sob of despair.

He didn't need to look over to know he was alone.

_**MERLIN1010101010101MERLIN** _

Gwen sighed as she watched the party mount up in the courtyard. She had been relieved to see Leon and Percival with them. Arthur had refused to command any of his Knights away from Camelot, away from their families, over Yule, and had been insistent on only having volunteers.

She'd been surprised when Ian had naturally assumed he was going as well, which she had only learned when he'd made the request for another servant to see to Merlin's chambers while they were gone. When she'd tried to dissuade him, his stubbornness had so reminded her of a much younger Merlin that she'd given in, assigning the work to Arthur's manservant, Boris. With the King gone, his duties would be lighter.

She smiled when she saw Merlin mount gracefully, stunning in the clothes she had gifted him. He'd been genuinely grateful to her, though hadn't been able to resist teasing her that he was not a doll. She knew he had his own income now, money coming his estates as Duke De Bois as well as his salary as Court Sorcerer, but also knew he never spent it. Clothing had never seemed a top priority to the younger man.

It helped, too, that Arthur liked to indulge her love of sewing, always making sure she had nothing but the best of materials to work with. No few of his own tunics had been made by her hand. When she'd started making Merlin's, too, he had made sure to let every cloth maker in the Kingdom know she could purchase at will on tab sent to the King himself.

This particular outfit had been made with some of the materials that Durstan's mother had sent as a gift. The pure white would have clashed horribly with her own dark skin, but stood out brilliantly against Merlin's sable hair.

Pure white pants and tunic with silver thread dragons embroidered on the body and arms of the tunic as though they were climbing to perch on his shoulder. A matching white cloak had also accompanied them, the outer layer made of white and grey snow owl feathers with the collar trimmed in winter white and grey marbled ermine fur- especially difficult to get since there was such a short window for trapping them while their fur changed colors for the winter. Arthur had been only too happy to go out Hunting for them when she'd made the request.

When Durstan had discovered the clothes were an intended gift for Emrys, he had immediately written to his mother, knowing what an honor it would be to her. Also a way of showing, he explained, that Camelot would not hold the attempt on Merlin's life by his brother, Bursus, against Dumnonia as a whole. The Prince had, in fact, complimented her on her diplomatic ingenuity.

The Court Sorcerer was unaware of how important him wearing the gift out to visit his own Honored Mother had been to the tenuous peace that was hanging by a thread. Dumnonia had delayed transporting Bursus to face Camelot justice until a trial could take place in their own court. The royal family were also religious leaders, it seemed, and the blasphemy of Bursus' actions had to be addressed first to appease the people and reassure them that no black omens had been cast over them.

She hadn't been particularly pleased, but she knew peace was the ultimate goal. For himself, Arthur seemed content to leave the entire affair in her hands. He was still angry, and didn't trust his own decisions since Bursus had dared threaten something so precious to him.

She knew he'd been avoiding the Prince, too. She knew the King in Arthur wanted to keep them separate, keep the act of one from influencing his decisions, but the lover wanted to cut down anything that had played a part in the attack on the man he loved. Add his own frustrations at the ever increasing distance between the two men, and she knew it was for the best that she handle this particular treaty.

She'd been ruthless in discovering just what authorities Durstan had signed over to Arthur with his oath, something that had seemed to merely impress the Prince more. She had to admit, she couldn't deny the attraction and growing fondness she felt for the visiting Prince. But for all her attraction, she would make sure Camelot was recompensed for this attack, in one way or another. It wouldn't be enough, not nearly, to soothe the wrath of the lover, but she had hope of making the King see reason.

The party left the square, Arthur in front, Merlin trailing behind. Arthur had told her what this visit would do. He'd felt she needed to be aware of the risks to both himself and the Consort. She prayed with all her heart that it could somehow mend the rift that was obvious to all. When he'd told her, she had only been able to nod.

"Take care of him, Arthur. Bring him back to us whole, or not at all. I cannot bear to watch you both suffer," she had told him.

She knew Arthur was nothing if not a man of his word.

_**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN** _

Arthur sat back, watching the bustle around the camp, with a half-smile. Leon and Percival were content to tease Ian about his cooking, pleading with Merlin to take over. Ian was frustrated because Merlin actually took it to heart and continuously got in his way, right down to serving them all the final meal, leaving Ian standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at his Master. Ian had nearly had an apoplexy when Merlin then served _him_ his meal. Arthur thought the man was going to faint when Merlin offered to do the dishes.

The manservant's indignation were enough to send them all into rowdy laughter, teasing Merlin for teaching Ian bad habits and ruining a perfectly good servant. Arthur's heart nearly burst when Merlin joined in, active and joking, and blessedly _smiling_. It was as though the past months had melted away, and they were just out on a regular patrol again.

Artemis heaved a sigh as he sat next to the King.

"All is ready," he murmured. "The Call will come tonight. Are you sure about this?" He nodded toward the scene Arthur had been watching. "There is hope without it, I think."

"You don't know him like I do. This is a temporary reprieve, nothing more." Arthur sighed. "I have no choice."

"There is always a choice, Arthur. And I think it's unfair that you take it away from him."

"So you've mentioned, Artemis," Arthur replied evenly. "Repeatedly."

"Arthur, please, reconsider. This is dangerous enough knowing what to expect. He knows nothing! The risks increase even more for him."

"As you've also previously mentioned." He wouldn't be swayed from this, convinced it was the only way to resolve the issue. Words had failed him. It was time for action. An action he didn't dare tell his lover about, for all he worried about the additional risks himself. Merlin would bolt, he was sure, as far from him as he could. The younger man was perfectly capable of staying just ahead of any search parties he sent. If Arthur continued to push too hard, he'd disappear completely. No. He didn't dare take that chance.

Artemis sighed, and nodded. "I will say my farewells then. I wish you success, Arthur. I will see you soon, my friend."

Arthur smiled at him, giving his hand a shake. "Thank you, Artemis. No matter what happens, thank you."

_**MERLIN10101010101010101010MERLIN** _

" _Emrys…_ "

Merlin groaned in his sleep, rolling over to try and ignore the voice.

" _Emrys…_ "

" _Not tonight,_ " he replied. He hadn't truly recognized how tired he was until he'd fallen into his bedroll.

" _Emrys…_ "

Frustrated, Merlin sat up. The camp was silent, and he had to admit Ian had done a decent job of banking the fire. The servant had taken the teasing well, he thought, stretching, remembering his own initiations from the Knights when he'd begun to join them on these trips.

" _Emrys…_ "

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Merlin grumbled under his breath. Standing, he glanced around, and saw Arthur's place was empty. He must be on watch. He would have to be extra careful, but it wasn't the first time he'd had to sneak out of camp on the King's watch.

Silently, cursing the white of his outfit making him stand out, he slipped away. His brown pants and jacket had always been a help in these situations. He had lost none of the stealth he'd achieved in the years of doing just this type of thing, but was worried about a flash of white catching Arthur's eye. The King was never lax when on his watch. He held his breath until he was well outside of the camp borders.

Using his magic, he let his eyes show him the path in the dark, following the persistent call in his mind. He should have known. It was never a simple trip! Though at least, he thought, he could be thankful that it wasn't bandits attacking them. Being called out in the middle of the night was an improvement, he thought. He frowned as he neared a clearing not far from their camp. It was so dark his vision seemed to fail him. Everything about the area was designed to absorb light.

"Hello?" he called quietly, repeating the call in his mind.

" _Emrys…_ "

"I'm here," he called, a little louder. "Come out where I can see you."

Suddenly a torch flared to life to his right. He whirled as it revealed a woman holding it. "What-"

The flare of lighting torches continued down a line, then the same across from him. "You called me," he said, confused. His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong, that this was a trap. But if someone needed his help…

"The Trial has been granted."

"The Right of Destiny will be Judged."

He spun when first one voice, then many, began to speak words in the ancient tongue in unison. He felt the magic they were using swirl up around him, tugging at his own, sealing it off. He tried to wrestle his back, tried to bring up a defense. Turning in another circle, stopping when he spotted a familiar figure lying a few feet away from him. "No!" he screamed even as he ran, not caring about how open his back was to attack. Without his powers, he was almost helpless any way.

He ignored the chanting, ignored the robed people as he fell, skidding on something slippery, to his knees next to his King. How had he gotten here? How long had he been missing from Camp and no one noticed? Urgently, he placed his fingers to the unconscious man's throat, relieved to find a strong pulse. "Arthur! Arthur wake up!" he called, shaking the broad shoulders urgently. "Please!"

The spell got louder, and he felt himself getting dizzy. "Arthur," he gasped out, falling heavily to a seated position next to his lover. Fighting the effects of the spell, he never heard the crack from beneath him, barely registered the feeling of the fall as the ice opened, dumping him into the freezing waters of the stream that had bubbled away beneath the thin ice.

He felt the splash of ice cold water enter his lungs as he gasped, and then darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

_The Trial of One- Merlin_

"Merlin, come get your breakfast!"

Merlin grinned as he entered the small kitchen of the house he shared with his mother, eager for the porridge he knew she had made especially for him. "Thank you, Mother. But you didn't have to." He could smell the honey in it- an especially rare treat these days for the small village.

"Nonsense! It's not every day my boy comes home! I've missed you!" Hunith dropped a kiss on top of her son's head, serving him, then seating herself across the table from him.

Merlin offered her a sad smile, then dug into his breakfast. "I've missed you too. I'll be going out to the fields today to help Jona with the planting. I should be back by supper."

"Never let it be said you'd ever be late for a meal." Hunith chuckled. Then she sighed. "Merlin, I'm glad to have you home, but you haven't told me why."

Merlin stopped mid way to his mouth, then forced his hand to keep moving. "I did tell you. I missed you. Felt it was time to come home."

"Merlin," his mother chided. "You know better than to lie to me. I could always tell." She hesitated. "Did something happen between you and Arthur?"

"Mum, I promise, I'm all right. Isn't that enough?"

"A mother can spot a broken heart from a mile away, Merlin," she answered gently, reaching over to take his hand. "Please tell me. I want to help."

Merlin shook his head. "You can't. It's enough to know I've done what I needed to do. It cost me something dear, but he's safe, so it's worth it."

"Is it?" she replied softly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Merlin replied firmly, jerking his hand away from hers.

She tsk'd at him. "Stubborn. Just like you father," she chuckled.

Merlin froze. "What?"

"Balinor was stubborn too. He preferred to keep everything closed in, held tight. Like if he let it loose he would hurt someone," Hunith smiled fondly in memory, not seeing the frown that had come from her son.

Merlin blinked, then shook his head. It was hard to think suddenly, but he knew… this wasn't… his magic whispered to him. "You've never once spoke of him."

Hunith blinked, then tried to hide her startled expression with a smile. "It would have hurt you to know when you were growing up. Once you met him, though- I don't see the need to protect you from his memory any longer. He was a _good_ man."

Merlin nodded, standing slowly. "He was. Except I never told you about meeting him." He backed away from her.

"No, Gaius did."

"Gaius would never have done that. Who are you?" He shivered, suddenly feeling cold. He tried to draw up his magic, but there was a barrier between him and it. He could hear it whispering to him, but it stayed firmly out of his reach.

"Merlin, I'm your mother…"

"Just stop lying to me!" he gasped out, feeling something heavy in his lungs. "Who are you?" he demanded, putting a hand to his head. Why couldn't he think? This all felt very wrong, but he couldn't place why.

Other voices filtered through his mind.

' _He's fighting it too hard.'_

' _He's too suspicious.'_

' _This may not work on him.'_

' _His magic is fighting us.'_

' _I'm losing control… it's not obeying anymore'_

"What's happening?" Merlin demanded, beginning to cough even as he shivered. "You're not her," he mumbled, stumbling backwards. "Not her." He leaned over, coughing harder- deep, wet hacks that came from water logged lungs. Darkness swam at the edges of his mind.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Hunith whispered. "Close your eyes, it's all right."

' _We're losing him!'_

' _His magic is manifesting the spell!'_

' _We must continue! A Trial has been granted, it must progress!'_

_'Don't fight it. Allow it to takes its course'_

Merlin couldn't breathe. Every breath he drew in brought ice into him. He was shivering as a bone deep cold settled into it. He choked on the water in his throat, but as he opened his mouth expel it, more rushed in. What was…

Darkness claimed him.

_**MERLIN1010101010101MERLIN** _

"Wake up, Merlin," a female voice purred in his ear. He automatically flinched away from it, sensing danger even as he struggled to full consciousness. Pain lanced down his arms, and he realized they were tied up above him. He gave his arms a tug, wincing at the feel of steel around his bare wrists and the rattle of chains sounded back to him.

"Come on, you can do it. Open those blue eyes for me," the voice purred again, running something sharp over the smooth skin of his chest.

And then he placed the voice and his eyes flew open. "Morgana!"

"Well it's about time," she mocked, moving away from him. "I was getting bored."

Merlin shivered in the night air. The small fire she had going in the far end of her hut wasn't enough to take the chill off the entire room, and he was far from it. "What's going on?" Hadn't he just been somewhere else?

"I have some questions for you, Merlin, and since this was so effective last time, I decided to revisit the method."

"I won't tell you anything," Merlin ground out, fury spiking through him. He tried to call up his magic, but found himself unable to reach it. He shivered again, could feel his magic trying to tell him... he lost the thought. Morgana was looking entirely too smug.

"You will," Morgana answered confidently. "All I want to know, and more." She reached into a box, bringing out a Nathair. "Do you know what this is?"

It didn't take him long to find out.

Merlin sagged, weakly, from the chains holding him up. He felt like he'd been screaming for hours. He was pleased, though. Morgana was pacing the small hut, her fury all too obvious at his continued resistance.

"Why?" she demanded. "We once discussed loyalty, but I sense something so much deeper! What is it that gives you the power to resist the Nathair?" she screeched in frustration.

Merlin offered her a weak smile. "A belief in a cause so profound that it consumes the soul," he answered groggily. "I've given everything to it, Morgana. Physical pain is the least of what I've suffered."

"And _Arthur_ is that cause?" she snorted in disbelief. "He is a product of his father, a fool and a tyrant. Nothing more. He is nothing without your power behind him."

"You're wrong," Merlin mumbled, his mind a haze of pain, but clear in this one belief. "Arthur is the _destiny_ of Albion. He is the hope in achieving all you are working for, without the blood you would demand as payment. You would place Magic above those who don't have it- a scheme no different than Uther's to abolish it. Both of you dedicated to tipping the scale too far to one side. Arthur will be the balance between the two."

"My poor, ignorant boy," Morgana pouted. "You think that because he accepted you, because he allowed an amnesty on magic users, that he will end his reign any differently than Uther? How many times has he threatened magic? How many times has he hurt those he claims to love? Deep down, he will always be that arrogant, spoiled, brute."

"He is the Light to your Dark, Morgana, Love to your Hate. Your eternal opposite. He is so much more than you give him credit for. He is a great King, and will be greater still in the future to come."

"Love needs an anchor, Merlin, or it turns to hate. Take it from me. Once you remove the anchor, hate is all that's left." She arched an eyebrow at him, the smile that replaced her previous bitterness enough to make him tremble. "Shall we test it? I suspect _you_ are his anchor. Shall we remove it? Send pieces of you to him as he did to me of my Uncle? See what kind of a future your precious King creates then?"

Merlin smiled serenely at her. "My life means nothing, and you have every right to take it, Morgana, for all the hurt I've done to you. Arthur will go on, and Albion will be achieved whether I am there to whisper in his ear or not. Its roots have already been planted, and are thriving." He closed his eyes, exhausted from his battle with the pain. "I can die happy knowing that I have played my small part. I would welcome the end to my own pain."

His eyes flew open again when her hand forced his chin up. "Oh Merlin," she chided. "Your pain has just begun." Her eyes flashed gold, and Merlin spiraled back into the world of agony created by the Nathair. His screams echoed in the small room, but through it all, he kept the certainty of his knowledge that it didn't matter. That Arthur would go on, and Albion would be the golden age as was promised to him so long ago. He kept his faith in the man he loved so much, grateful for the time they'd had.

He heard Morgana screech, felt the pain increase again and again in her rage, and realized his expression was one of peace even as he screamed. He smiled at her.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Trial of One- Arthur_

Arthur glared at his escort of guards as they marched him through the corridors toward the Council Chambers. Considering what he was likely being walked toward, he thought he should be thankful he wasn't in chains. He wouldn't have put it beyond his father.

They entered the room, and he was surprised to see the entire court assembled. Given the likely nature of this summons, he was shocked to consider his father would want an audience. An attempt to cow him, he thought, to make him consider his words carefully. Arthur caught sight of Gaius, standing silently next to his King, his hands folded together in front of him. He looked like he had aged since the condemnation of his ward, but Arthur felt hope. Surely, Gaius would speak up. He was a loyal subject of Camelot, but Arthur refused to believe he would allow the death of his ward as proof of that loyalty.

He could practically feel the rage emanating from his Father. Uther was beyond furious, as Arthur had expected. He'd understood the consequences of his choice. He held his head high. He was the Crowned Prince of Camelot, and he would not show shame for his actions.

"My Lord," he greeted his father respectfully, bowing slightly.

"Arthur, you have this one opportunity to break the link you have created with the sorcerer!" Uther commanded, using all the power in his position as King, in his confidence that his son would obey. The statement rang with a certainty that his authority was all it would take to put his son properly back in line.

Arthur smirked. How little his father knew him. "I will not, Father. I will not condemn him to the pyre."

"You are the Crowned Prince of Camelot! You have a duty to obey the law! As a Knight of Camelot, you also have a duty to enforce it. Magic is against the law. No farm boy is above that law. I cannot be any clearer than that."

"I have learned much, Father, from that _farm boy_ you would so quickly condemn. I have learned that law is not justice, and it is a just kingdom I seek to someday rule," Arthur replied calmly, a part of him desperately hoping he could make the man in front of him see reason. "Laws can be changed for convenience, what is right, what is truly just, cannot."

"Understand me, Arthur. Magic has no place in Camelot. You have broken the law by using it, and will be severely punished. As it is, you are lucky I am convinced the servant has enchanted you. You _will_ break it."

"I won't," Arthur repeated strongly. "I will accept whatever punishment you deem worthy of my offense, but I will not allow his death."

"What is it about this damnable servant that has you insisting on continuing to disobey me? If not an enchantment, then _what_?" Uther demanded in frustration.

"Love, Father," Arthur answered easily. He almost enjoyed watching the emotions of anger, disgust, fear, and horror pass over the King's face. "I love him, and I will protect him in whatever capacity I can."

"Don't be a fool! Your duty…"

"I know my duty, Father," Arthur interrupted. "I assure you, I take it very seriously. My duty is not only to Camelot, but to a destiny you can't begin to understand. To lose him would mean an end to the hope of the future. You have no idea what he's done for Camelot, what he will do still."

"With magic!" his father roared. "How are you blind to the evils of that power? It corrupts them all, as it will even him, eventually. Have you forgotten that it was this evil that took your mother? That nearly brought Camelot to ruin?"

Arthur's expression hardened, but he forced himself to keep control of his temper. "I have _never_ forgotten, Father, just who _and_ what was responsible for my mothers death." He watched in satisfaction as his father's eyebrows rose in surprise, his indirect meaning having had an impact. "And your war against Magic may have been justified in its time, I can't claim to know for sure since I wasn't there. But like all wars, Father, there must be an end. At some point, the loss of life on both sides has more than paid for the original insult."

"My laws are not on trial here," Uther spat out. "Your damnable link _is_! Have you any idea of the chaos you've created? To protect a _servant_! A tool that is to be used and tossed away once its task is completed!"

"You misunderstand, Father. The link was never meant to protect the servant." Arthur raised his chin, confident in his conviction, and words floated to him from a source outside of the here and now. "Merlin and I have fought for a future you can't begin to conceive of side by side for many years. Many of mine spent powerless, unable to help except to offer silence. I watched him suffer for _years_ , and did nothing. I have allowed him to run headlong into potential death time and again, while I sat and waited. Waited for the moment my heart would stop because his had."

"Arthur-"

"No! You will hear this, Father, and know it for truth. I was once shown the future he has sacrificed so much for, and I found myself believing in it, in wanting it as much as he did. And so I waited, in fear, terrified that all hope would be lost when he was forced to offer the final sacrifice, because a part of me always knew I couldn't do it without him. By some miracle, we both lived to see the day when I was no longer powerless.

"I can be a _part_ of the fight, now. I don't have to watch from the shadows any longer. He doesn't have to face it alone. I can let my love be the strength he needs to keep doing what only _he_ can. I can't pretend I'm equipped to fight the battles he must, but I _can_ be the foundation he uses to stand tall, to brace himself on.

"The Bond gives me the power to shield him when he must be the sword, and to be his sword while he works to shield us, but the link assures _he_ ceases to try and be both at once. I can't allow him to throw everything away because he refuses to believe his role is more than that of a sacrificial lamb. If I am his strength, then he is my soul, my conscience. I'm not prepared to face the monster I will become in his absence, without his purity guiding me, his wisdom forcing me to look through your teachings that are always whispering vile lies in my ear. This was the risk magic took when they offered me that choice, when they created the Bond. I can't live without him, and I won't. Until he sees that, then this Link is the only way I have to protect not only him, and not only myself, but the destiny we were meant to achieve."

"Arthur, this is all rubbish! You _will_ break this link, and he _will_ be put to death!"

"I won't."

_llllllllllllllllllllllllll The Trial of Two_

Uther raised his hand, making a forward motion a guard. "You leave me no choice."

Arthur turned, surprised when guards dragged in a chained, barely conscious, shirtless Merlin, throwing him on the floor, ignoring the weak cry of pain. Arthur went to move toward him, but a tsk from his father stopped him mid step. "If you move, Arthur, I will kill him here and now, regardless of any link."

Arthur whirled on his Father, anger surging in every nerve in his body. "You would risk so much to satisfy your hatred? Even me?" he swore, understood it to be true even as he threw the accusation at the man he had once respected so much. How many years spent groveling for this monster's approval? How much time had he wasted working to achieve the impossible goal of making this beast proud of him that could have been spent with the man he loved? With the man who told him often how much he believed in the King Arthur would someday be, in the man he would become? With the man who had constantly lifted him up rather than tear him down?

"I would risk _everything_ for Camelot! To see it continue to be the great champion of good I have created! So long as you refuse to break this link, then you are already lost to me!" Uther roared back at him. "This servant of yours' poses a risk to all that I have bled to create, and your unnatural attachment to him makes you a risk as well. If you will not break the link, then I will show you there are fates worse than death!"

He waved his hand again, and two guards hauled Merlin to his knees, holding him up by his arms, chains rattling, head hanging down as though he was too weak to lift it, to care what was going on around him. Arthur's eyes widened as he took in the guard standing behind the boy, uncoiling a whip. He shot look of horror to Gaius, who hadn't so much as shifted from his spot. The aged head was downcast, however. And Arthur knew, there would be no respite there.

"Father, please," Arthur begged, genuine fear spiking through him for the first time since this had begun. Not this! Merlin had suffered enough. "The punishment is meant to be _mine_!" he pleaded.

"This _is_ your punishment," Uther answered seriously. "Break the link, Arthur."

Arthur hesitated only for a moment before shaking his head. He flinched as he heard the sharp crack of the whip. A groan came from the warlock, but no more. Five more cracks, and on the sixth finally a soft cry escaped those lips.

"Uther," Gaius tried to speak, but the King silenced him with a look.

"Words and wisdom will not prevail here. His own pain will mean nothing to him. If the boy is all he cares about, then we will see how much he is willing to sacrifice for this damned future he keeps prattling on about." Arthur's heart broke when Gaius nodded, stepping back to his former position.

" _You_ are the cause of his suffering, Arthur. Break it and it will be done," Uther offered.

"I can't break it," Arthur whispered miserably. "There's too much at stake."

"So be it."

Arthur closed his eyes, letting tears fall as Merlin's cries became louder with each crack of the whip, the rattle of chains as he tried to jerk away from the source of his torment. Then he resolutely opened them. Uther was right. This was _his_ fault, after all. And if he couldn't prevent it, he would damn well watch it happen! Merlin deserved to know he hadn't been a coward, had watched, each stroke hurting him as though it were his own back being flayed. It had always hurt him when Merlin suffered.

He tried to slip into the Bond, determined to share in his lovers' pain, to reach out and shield him from it. He cried out in frustration when it ignored his calls, staying just beyond his grasp. For the first time in years, he was being blocked from accessing a power source he had come to rely on. He called it again, and again, and was denied each time. He was left defenseless, unable to do more than stand and watch the horror in front of him.

The sound of leather hitting blood slicked skin made a sickening sound. The cries of pain becoming garbled with moans and groans. A voice that had somehow already been hoarse giving out sometimes mid-way, until the next one was torn from the abused throat. Arthur couldn't stop himself from leaning over and heaving.

"You can stop this, Arthur," Uther reminded him. "Merely say the word."

Arthur took deep gulps of air, forcing his stomach to settle. It killed him to shake his head, but he managed to force the words out. "I can't."

Merlin's head was still hanging down. Arthur knew he needed to see those eyes. Suddenly every fiber in his being _needed_ to be near his lover, needed to touch him, to reassure him. Not caring about his father's threat, he moved, sinking to his knees in front of his lover, shrugging off the guards who made only the barest attempt at stopping him. He cupped his hands around Merlin's face, forcing the warlock to look at him even as he jerked from the impacts on his back.

"Merlin, open your eyes, Love," Arthur commanded sharply. His heart leapt into his throat when the warlock obeyed, the gold crowned blue eyes awash with a profound pain and suffering. "I'm so sorry," Arthur whispered.

Merlin offered him the impossible, then. He smiled at his King. "S'not your fault"

Arthur barked a laugh. "It is, actually. All of this. I didn't know." He wasn't sure why, but somewhere deep down he knew those words were true. "It's my fault and I don't know how to stop it. I'm sorry."

"Shhh, Arthur… AH!... 'sok."

Not caring who saw him, Arthur reached down and kissed the blood speckled lips of his lover. If he couldn't stop this, if he couldn't end his suffering, he would make sure Merlin knew he was cared for, and he didn't care that his father, and the entire court was watching. "I love you," he whispered against those lips. "I will always love you." Merlin smiled, huffing a laugh that turned into a sob as another lash was applied to a back that couldn't possibly have anything left to whip.

"He's going to kill us both," Merlin whispered back, leaning his forehead against his King's. "For his pride, we'll both die. You have to break the link, Arthur. Save yourself."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. It was easy, he'd found, to strongly deny the demands from his father to do it, but this quiet, pain filled, plea nearly broke his resolve. Merlin had already spent a lifetime suffering for a destiny he'd never asked for. The idea of inflicting more cut Arthur to his core, but he couldn't afford to waver in this. He was absolutely sure something very important was resting on his ability to resist. "I'm sorry, Merlin, but I _can't_. Not even to end this. I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated, his voice cracking under the strain of the emotions raging inside him.

"It's all right, Arthur," Merlin forgave. "I understand." Another jerk.

Arthur shook his head. "You _don't_. You think I'm doing this to protect _your_ life. I'm not, I swear I'm not. I'm doing it to protect _mine_ , to protect the future _you_ promised me." Merlin's eyes widened in surprise at the confession, then narrowed in confusion as his tired mind tried to put it together. Arthur leaned in and kissed him again, needing his words to impact with the suffering man, needing to remind him of their connection. "Merlin, I can't be the man you want me to be. Not without you. I saw that once before. I have only two choices. I can either end my life when you do, or I can destroy everything we've worked to build. I can't- I _won't_ \- risk the latter."

"Arthur, you are a..." Merlin broke off, rocking forward at particularly hard stroke. "AH!"

"I'm a great King, I know. You've told me for years. And I _believe_ it, Merlin, I _do_. I know and accept the role in our destiny that I play. But I need _you_ to _make_ me _be_ that man. To make the efforts to shut out all the doubts, all the voices calling from within that I'm _still_ just that spoiled Prince you met in the market that day. I need your voice to be louder than those others. I can't break the link because it's the only thing protecting that great King, that man of destiny. He doesn't exist without you."

"It's my destiny to protect you," Merlin replied, even as his eyes began to flutter. "You don't know what's coming. It may be my end. I may not be strong enough," Merlin confessed weakly, finally letting out the secret that had been driving him for months. He was too weak to do more than sob as another stroke fell on his back, his confession torn from him in a wave of agony. "I saw it, in the Crystals. This link threatens everything I am destined to do. It was all for nothing, if I can't protect you." Merlin sobbed again, choking as blood spilled the corner of his mouth. "There is no victory if in the end we're both lost."

Arthur cupped his hands tighter as the raven head began to fall backward, kept that face looking at him. "You protect me by staying with me, by being at my side. By being my proof that magic can be good, can be fair. The truth is neither of us can complete that destiny on our own. What you have always failed to see, Merlin, is that it _needs_ both of us! Neither is strong enough to do it on his own. Why do you think destiny bonded us together? Love, don't you see? A battle can't be won with only a sword _or_ shield. It needs _both_! And if that end is coming, then we will go to face it together. We're always at our best when we're _together_! Why do you think Nimueh, and even the Cailleach, could never accept your life in exchange for mine? Because they _knew_ , Merlin, knew your death was _never_ your destiny, _Emrys_ , that your ultimate sacrifice isn't a life ended, but a life _lived_! Please, you have to see that!" Merlin cried out again, the whites of his eyes rolling up just as they closed for one last time. "No!" Arthur wailed in rage. "Merlin! Stay with me!"

"Enough," Gaius announced, stepping forward even as the young man collapsed into Arthur's arms. "It is finished," he said, holding up a hand to stall Uther's objection. "The Judgment has been made."

Arthur turned, startled at the strong command in the Gaius's voice. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him, no longer his Father and the old Physician, but three robed women each carrying a staff. Memories began to flow back to him as the illusion lessened its hold on his mind.

"The Disir!" he whispered in awe, just before darkness enveloped him.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur gasped as he broke through the surface of the ice cold stream. He looked around himself in a panic, finding only empty space. Without hesitation, he dove back in. The water felt like ice picks on his eyeballs, and no light penetrated the water. Slamming his eyes shut, he felt around in his area. Merlin couldn't be too far from him. The hole in the ice when he'd surfaced had barely been large enough for two bodies.

His lungs were ready to explode when he finally felt what he hoped was hair, which he grabbed, already heading for the surface. When he broke again, he used all his strength to pull the sodden form against him. He gasped for air, but didn't take the time to regain his breath. It hadn't escaped his notice that the only intake of air had been his. He headed for the edge of the ice they'd fallen through, pushing his warlock up onto it first, then heaving himself onto it. Somehow he didn't doubt it would be strong enough to hold them. That their fall had been deliberately orchestrated, and the hours they spent locked in their heads merely seconds in the real world.

He shivered as the cool night air hit his wet bare skin. Somehow, his cloak and shirt were missing, as were Merlin's, though he clearly remembered having them when he'd felt the spell pull him into unconsciousness. Ignoring it, he used shaking fingers to try and feel for a pulse, but they were numb. Cursing, he lowered his head, pressing an ear hard against the boys' chest. His heartbeat was sluggish, weak, though still there. But the chest wasn't moving.

Frustrated, he sat up, took a look at the blue tinge to the warlock's lips. His panic was serving to force his own heart to beat faster, but they couldn't stay here for long with nothing to protect them from the cold. "Breathe, Merlin," he panted, pushing down on the frail chest as he'd seen Gaius do, trying to force out some of the water in burdened lungs. He repeated the process again, and again. He remembered then what an old Physician had done when Morgana had nearly drowned as child. Moving up, he sealed his lips over Merlin's, breathing heavily into the mouth he'd opened.

He watched the chest move artificially up a little, but felt his own air back on his face. Thinking quickly, he pinched Merlin's nose to block the source of his air returning to him, then breathed again. This time the chest went up much more. He did it again. "Please, Merlin!" he begged, blowing again. "Breathe!"

Tears began to well in his eyes. He forced the chin up with his one hand, running another along sharp cheekbones. "Please," he whispered, sealing and blowing again.

He cried out with relief when the cold body jerked, choking. He quickly rolled the warlock onto his side, rubbing between the bare shoulders to help force out the water Merlin was spewing out in ragged coughs. How much had the unprepared boy taken in when he'd fallen? He noticed then that he was shaking, that his panic had only been a part of the reason for it. They were freezing and would die soon if they didn't get warm.

As if summoned by the thought, a ring of fire suddenly leapt up around them. Arthur yelled his shock, but then the details of the Trials they'd just experienced came back to him. He swallowed, looked more closely at Merlin's back, using the light the fire provided. There were six very deep lash marks that would bleed considerably once the warlock was warm enough for his blood to flow properly again, but not nearly the damage Arthur knew had been done in the vision. Guilt flooded him even as he breathed a sigh of relief. It worried him that even that much had carried through, since he had no idea what Merlin had experienced during his vision.

Merlin was no longer spewing water and had returned his unconscious state. Arthur pulled the younger man against him, trying to offer what little warmth he had to spare to the ice cold flesh that seemed to be resisting the heat of the flames. He looked around then. Everything around them was seen through the smoke and heat haze of the fire. A fire he could very much feel- and appreciate the heat of- but didn't seem to be melting the ice underneath.

Beyond the haze, he saw a dozen druids standing with their hands raised up, torches held high, and the sounds of their chanting filtered through his ears, but from far away, as though merely an echo. For a moment he watched, stunned, as they moved as one, beginning to dance, their arms and bodies swirling and swaying as they payed homage to the earth they revered. It was beautiful, ethereal. The graceful movements got faster, becoming a blur to him as the bodies moved to a rhythm he couldn't hear. He called out to them, but it was obvious they couldn't hear him, or even see him.

Then three robed women walked through the fire, and Arthur cursed himself for a fool, not surprised the magical flames failed to burn them. Who else would lead such a Trial but the Voice of the Triple Goddess herself? Artemis had warned him that this ritual would be overseen by only the highest of powers. His memories whispered two previous encounters with the Disir. He sincerely hoped he fared better with them this time!

"You have made a plea for the Trials, Arthur Pendragon. You have undertaken this quest with full understanding of the risks, and the price of failure. Is it now your wish to receive the Judgement of the Triple Goddess?" They intoned, their voices strong with the ancient power that flowed through them.

Arthur dipped his head, remembering the words of ritual Artemis had made him memorize, in a bow. "I have called Trial on the validity of the Link I created, that it be the Judgement of the Triple Goddess to remove it or keep it, as Her Will resides over all things of magic." He hesitated only a moment, tightening his hold, knowing the form in his arms was supposed to be shivering by now, should have been conscious. Knew the rattle of those breaths meant there was still a killing water in his lungs. He'd known the risks, he'd just been naïve enough to think they were _his_ , and his alone. He swallowed as he continued. "I am ready to hear Her Will, and abide by Her Judgement, be it life or death, as was bargained."

He could swear he saw a smirk on one of the older women's mouths. "You have learned much, Arthur Pendragon, for we remember well the fate which you escaped. It is the will of the Disir to reward your humility, and in recognition of his sacrifices for all magic kind, with a boon before we conclude the Trials."

"Heal him," Arthur asked immediately, hope flaring in him. "Please, take what you will of me, but if he dies, this was all for nothing."

The three women considered him carefully, and for moment he feared his past sins would cost the younger man his life. "We will prevent his death, Arthur Pendragon. The risks you knew when you sent a plea representative, we cannot remove. His suffering was the price you paid for these Trials."

Arthur nodded, knowing immediately to be grateful for even that much. "Thank you," he answered sincerely. He felt the form in his arms arch, all muscles suddenly drawn as taunt as a bow string. He watched in fascination as a glow spread slowly, felt heat begin to come from the ash white skin, heard the harsh, wet breathing dry out. It seemed to last forever, but in moments, Merlin was limp once more. Arthur felt the wetness against his chest and knew the blood flow had been restored, and that the six lash marks had begun to bleed. But those would heal in time. The killing cold had been removed, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he repeated gratefully. When he looked up, he was alone in the fire.

"Wait!" he called. "What is the Judgement?"

The rising chanting of the dancing Druids came strongly to his ears then, as the fire slowly died out. The voices reached a crescendo, a final plea, as all went to their knees. They sat motionless for a moment, before slowly rising, and stepping back to disappear into the woods around them, their part of the ceremony concluded. None of them looked at them, or acknowledged them in any way.

Understanding he would receive no help from them, he stood, easily lifting the weight in his arms, and picked his way carefully over the ice, careful not to slip. He could see their cloaks piled on the bank, folded neatly, and aimed for them. With the warmth of the fire gone, their sodden wet pants and boots and bare chests had them both shivering again in the chilled night air.

He had just finished wrapping Merlin's white owl feather cloak around him when he heard the rustle of leaves behind him. Whirling, he whipped out his sword, blade ready to defend even as his feet found their stance facing the enemy.

"Artemis!" Arthur called in surprised, dropping the stance immediately. "Help me get him back to camp," he urged, turning back to his lover. When the sound of rustling stopped, he turned around, confused, to see the druid had stopped his approach and was now standing a foot away from them.

"As you have selected me representative of your plea, Arthur Pendragon, so now does the duty to announce your judgement fall to me," Artemis intoned seriously.

Arthur stilled, then stood, facing the druid. "I stand ready to serve," Arthur bowed as he gave his response. It was what he'd been instructed to say once the intention to announce Judgment had been indicated. The old religion truly did seem to like its rituals, but he would do nothing to offend.

"It is the Will of the Triple Goddess that the Link will remain, although altered, intact for so long as the Once and Future King remembers always the reason for its creation, and strives to continue efforts recognized by the old religion to maintain the necessary balance."

"No!" came a gasp from behind them. Arthur turned and saw Merlin struggling to sit up. "I didn't know. The Judgement is unfair." He managed to stand, though not quite straight. Arthur could see his muscles trembling with the effort, could see the pain that lined his face. He longed to help him, but Artemis hadn't finished speaking and Arthur didn't dare do anything to upset the ritual.

It was kind, sympathetic eyes that Artemis turned on Merlin.

"Emrys, for all your power, you have been unable to correctly see the path of your destiny. The Once and Future King has seen it clearly, and as such, the Judgment will remain in his favor. Take comfort, Son of the Steady Earth, in knowing that this was always a part of the hope sent to mankind when time dawned. Know now and always, Son of the Wild Seas, that your destiny has always been the ebb and flow of Life. Son of the Changing Skies, know that time will move around you and events progress, and always you will be the Sword and Shield to all of Magic." Wisps of light flowed out of the old man, wrapping themselves firmly around Merlin.

Merlin gasped as he felt the magic flow into him, his eyes changing to glowing gold unbidden. He felt the magic flow into the Link Arthur had created, felt it hold ready, waiting.

"And you, Son of the Dragon, your destiny to set right the wrongs of the past, to bear witness to the suffering of those dearest to you, to remember always the sacrifices made to save not only Magic, but all of mankind. As Once and Future King, your path is never walked alone." Another wisp of magic came from the druid, this time wrapping itself around Arthur, and the gold crowns burned in his eyes as well.

Both men gave cries, falling to their knees, as the magic wrapped around the link, snapping it away from both before settling once again into them.

"The Trials are completed, the Judgment passed."

**_MERLIN101010101101010MERLIN_ **

Arthur watched as Merlin quietly made his away from the celebrations, grabbing his cloak as he swept unnoticed out the door. The music and laughter covered the sound of the heavy wood closing. He wasn't surprised. Since their arrival in Ealdor the day before, Merlin had returned to his quiet, withdrawn state. He'd actively been avoiding Arthur, Ian, and the Knights. Artemis had opted to remain with his village for the holiday, which Arthur understood. The old druid was less than pleased with him.

For much of his time, Merlin claimed needing rest from his injuries and near drowning. Arthur would have been pleased to see him taking the time to recover if he hadn't known full well the boy spent more time slipping outside than actually in his chambers. As if they both hadn't spent enough time suffering from the cold. It had been a very slow and cold walk back to camp, both grateful to shed their wet items by Ian's well banked fire.

"Yule is a special time, Arthur," Hunith's voice beside him startled him. "For all its joy, it is first and foremost for hope."

Arthur looked at her. "I have all I can hope for," he answered, taking a drink from his goblet. Merlin was alive, and would continue to remain so. That was all he could ask. The knowledge pained him, knowing what he had sacrificed to achieve his goal. But he refused to regret it.

"My boy has always been stubborn, always felt like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. It's difficult for him to show anything less than perfect strength, and he'll never show you how much he needs you."

"He has me, always, Hunith," Arthur replied gently, not wanting to upset her. He cared too much about her, and she'd been hovering over him since Merlin was refusing even her presence.

"Then go after him."

Arthur shook his head. "He doesn't want to see or speak to me. He's very angry with me. I've done something that goes against everything he believes in."

Hunith clucked her tongue at him. "He believes in _you_ , Arthur. No matter what else has ever come between you, _that_ will never change. It's a solid foundation to begin to rebuild."

Arthur looked at her, saw her faith in his ability to fix this in her eyes. Nodding, he took a deep breath, and slipped into the night. He owed it to her to at least be able to honestly tell her he'd tried.

**_MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN_ **

Arthur's heart broke as he took in the sight of his lover on his knees, arms wrapped around himself and leaning forward almost until his forehead touched the ground, shaking as great sobs worked their way through him. The small clearing was surrounded heavily by woods, the stream that bubbled through edged with ice. It was far enough from the village that he'd never be heard, and Arthur recognized it as the place they had placed a marker for Merlin's old friend, Will. He hoped the village, which had prospered and was growing steadily, could find a way to keep this small piece preserved.

He hesitated, watching. Wondering if he still had any right to interfere. It was him, after all, who had caused a large portion of the warlock's pain, both physical and mental. He recognized this was Merlin trying to pull himself together. To find the strength to get through the next day, and the next. To shove everything he was feeling back into a tight lidded box that he could hide away to survive, to keep smiling. He remembered his promise to Hunith. If he let Merlin put a lid on that box, they'd never find their way back to each other.

"Merlin?" he called gently, squatting next to the younger man as he sat up, cheeks red with cold and glistening with moisture. "Are you all right?" he asked, worried what the position had likely done to the warlock's still shredded and tender back.

"I'm fine," Merlin replied automatically.

Arthur chuckled, moving to sit on the ground beside his lover. "I don't trust _that_ for a second, but as your Yule gift, I'll let you believe I do."

Merlin sniffled even as he let out a chuckle. "You'll never change, will you?"

Arthur leaned sideways, giving the boy a gentle shove with his shoulder. "I wouldn't want you to get bored."

"That's my line," Merlin answered softly. But he offered nothing else.

Arthur took a deep breath in the silence, twisting a twig in his fingers. "I've changed a lot, actually. What I'm left to wonder these days is if I've changed too much." He dared to brave the question he'd been dreading for months. "If I'm too far from the man you fell in love with."

Merlin looked at him, his eyes shining with tears. "You're _not_ the man I fell in love with, Arthur. You've become so much _more_ than that, so much more than I could have ever hoped for. You have become the great King, the great _man_ , I have always believed you could be. You're honest, and brave, and true hearted. Camelot is flourishing into the Albion I've always believed would come. I've never been prouder of you. I have been honored to serve you, Arthur, and that will never change."

"Merlin, that sounds an awful lot like a good bye," Arthur said quietly. "I've learned to recognize them, after all this time."

"Arthur-" There was layers of pain in that voice, in that single word plea, but Arthur wouldn't let him off that easily.

"Tell me, Merlin. I think I deserve to hear it."

"You don't understand. You've done what you had to do, and like or not, I even understand it. Now I have to do what I think I have to."

"And what's that, exactly?"

"I don't know." Merlin shook his head, tears falling freely as he tightened the arms still wrapped around himself, as though trying to contain something he was terrified would consume him if he let it out. "I'm lost, Arthur. So very lost."

Arthur used his hand to move his lovers chin to face him. "Then let me help you find your way, let me help remind you." He bent down, feeling the coolness of the night on those normally warm lips. He felt everything inside him ignite in a fire he was sure would burn out his soul if he let it. So long.

Merlin's responsiveness fueled the fire, and he let the warlock's hands move to touch the skin under his tunic, shivering when the icy appendages met his warmth. He deliberately kept every touch, every kiss tender and full of the love he felt was going to explode out of him. He let his hands move to the elegant throat that enchanted him. The skin there was cold, but still as silky smooth as he remembered.

When Merlin's actions started to become desperate, he shook his head, forcing himself to break away. "No, Merlin," he gasped, putting his forehead to the younger man's. "We can't." He refused to allow them to end up where they'd been the last time Arthur had given in to pure desire. "Not this time."

Merlin gave a cry of frustration, jerking away to rise and stand beside the stream, his back to his King so Arthur couldn't see the hurt on his face, couldn't see how much the rejection made him doubt himself. He felt the cold on his cheeks and knew tears were coming from his eyes, but the rejection had left him feeling numb, detached. "Then why did you come?"

Arthur stood, slowly slipping his arms around the warlock's waist, careful to keep his chest from pressing too hard against the healing back, but close enough that Merlin shivered from his hot breath on the back of his neck.

"Merlin, if I thought that making love to you, here and now, would fix everything between us, I would gladly give in to every part of me that is desperate to have you in my arms, to feel you, taste you, again," Arthur murmured, unable to stop himself from kissing his way from the base to the nape of that strong, stubborn neck, frowning when he saw the cord hidden beneath the collar of his tunic. He took a deep breath, shaking with the effort of forcing himself away from the temptation. "But I don't think that's what you need from me right now, Love."

"It's what I want," Merlin closed his eyes, his tone imploring as he leaned back, not caring about his injuries and needing to feel the solidness of his King behind him. "More than anything, it's what I want. But…" Merlin shook his head, unwilling to put a voice to the turmoil inside him, to let loose the horror he had barely managed to keep from overwhelming him for months.

"I'm here, Merlin," Arthur breathed. He let his biceps flex so the younger man could _feel_ the strength that surrounded him, the safety they offered. "I won't let you fall. It's all right, I'm here," Arthur soothed when he felt the frame he was wrapped around shaking, even without the Bond he could feel the war taking place inside the younger man. "Trust me."

Merlin took a deep breath, realizing that as it stood, he'd already lost everything that mattered to him. What more did he possibly have to risk? Here, in the sanctuary offered by the strength surrounding him, he dared to breathe out his confession.

"I feel like I'm being pulled in a hundred different directions, like I'm standing at a crossroads and no path is wrong, but they're all different, and each outcome more uncertain than the one before it," he whispered miserably, wincing when he felt them brush his mind, testing. "I've seen those futures, Arthur, but I couldn't see the paths that led to them. I'm terrified to take a step forward, but I know standing still will slowly eat away at everything I am." He closed his eyes as they came stronger this time, determined to break him. "I know each one has a cost, but they won't show me what that is. I keep looking, but they won't show me…"

He shuddered, gasping and arching against the King as those futures rushed in, encompassing him, burned his eyes gold, scorched their way through his mind now that he'd opened the portal. "It's too much," he cried out. "There's too many." He felt himself spiraling into them, and let himself fall to his hands and knees, trying to hold on to something- anything- that would prevent them from dragging him down as his fingers dug into the cold earth beneath his hands. He felt that glow of strength go with him, still holding him, trying to anchor him, stopping him from shaking apart. "Help me," he called out weakly, clutching at the front of his tunic, feeling himself becoming lost to the power of the crystals that still lingered in his own magic. Months of being kept at bay, tightly contained, now loosed- that power had found the small crack it needed to finally gain entry.

"Hold on, Merlin! Stay with me," Arthur pleaded next to him, but the frantic voice barely registered with him. He tried to flinch away from more images, those hundreds of futures flaying his mind as much as the whip had done his back. Pain and suffering and loss landed with sharp cracks on his already wounded psyche. He heard his King hiss in fury when the cord bearing the crystal he had taken from the caves fell loose to dangle in front of him. "Damnit, Merlin," he heard somewhere from far away, and yet far too close. The images pounded like a rough surf against his mind, drowning out any other sound.

"Too many," he whimpered.

And then suddenly it was gone. He gulped air as he felt something slip into him, surround him, throwing up shields to protect him from the onslaught. He saw the flood of images surge up in full force against them, saw the shields hold, breaking the waves. Watched as the images became muted, no longer able to reach him, felt himself shudder as he was freed of the weight they had kept him under for months. He gulped in another deep breath, feeling the chill air replace the smothering darkness that had been choking him.

"That's it, easy, Merlin, easy," a soothing voice sounded. "Come back to me," Arthur whispered. Lips met his, gently anchoring him, making him aware of their warmth, of their surety. He let his own fall into the pattern of following them, concentrating on feeling everything that was being offered to him. He blinked, then, confused as he looked into blue eyes with gold crowns glowing brightly at him.

"Arthur?"

His King smiled at him. "I told you, I won't let you fall. Let them go, Merlin," Arthur insisted. "There is only one path. _Our_ path. You want it, I can _feel_ how much you do. I won't stop fighting for it, not now that I know. So let the rest go." Warmth met cold once more. "There is only _our_ future, Merlin," that warmth whispered against his trembling lips. "Let them go."

Merlin wanted to object, to explain he needed them to find the way, but those shields never wavered, never lessened in their strength no matter how often that flood of horror crashed up against them. He felt those shields reach out to his own magic, and he let it be taken. He felt his own eyes settle into their familiar burn as he willing gave the power being asked of him, pushing out the invading chaos, leaving only the purity of his own magic. The shields absorbed all the two sources could pour into them, and when the flood returned, he cried out as those shields pulsed- sending out a shockwave of power that destroyed anything it came into contact with, breaking the connection with the crystal around his neck. Freed at last, he gave in, letting a soothing and quiet darkness swallow him.

**_MERLIN101011010101010MERLIN_ **

Arthur quickly eased his convulsing lover to the ground, holding a hand behind his head as a cushion. Wrapped tightly in the Bond, he had known the warlock wouldn't let go of them, was too deeply influenced by the dark powers that he had dabbled with and succumbed to. His own fear of the Link offering that damnable crystal all the opening it needed to warp the mind left open to it. Begging of it, he grabbed at Merlin's magic once more, delivering a final push of power toward the source, destroying its link with the warlock. He let out a sigh of relief when it shattered against the white tunic.

Merlin cried out, then fell still. Using the Bond in making absolutely sure the connection with the hated crystal was now gone, Arthur didn't hesitate in ripping it away from his warlocks neck. How long had Merlin been wearing it? _Why_ had he? They both knew how dangerous it was to him! How long had it been contaminating his magic? Filling the warlocks mind with images, whispering doom at every turn?

"Rest now, Love," he whispered, slowly withdrawing his power from the shields, letting them fall now that they were no longer needed. He let go of Merlin's magic, eased himself out of the flows that glowed around him. He allowed himself to leave the Bond altogether, feeling the power burn in his eyes fade as well. He had done all he could, and kept his promise not to let the warlock fall. "This battle, we won."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. He had rarely wielded so much power through the Bond before, and it always left him feeling a little breathless. It was getting stronger. He didn't hesitate in taking off his own cloak and spreading it over his shivering lover, then lifted him. He needed to get them both back to warmth.

"You should have _told_ me," he whispered, saddened that his lover had felt he had to face those horrors alone. He tightened his grip, and his resolve.

He was going to prove to his stubborn warlock he wasn't alone, once and for all!


	7. Chapter 7: Final Chapter Book 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Final chapter, folks! Thanks, as always, for reading, favorites, following and reviews! Like Darkest Days, this was just a bridge story. Had to get our boys back on track! Really don't know what came over them in Bound By Fate! Tsk. Hope to see you all in Book 5- Becoming the Legend!
> 
> MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN

"…. Opened several of the wounds on his back… recklessness…"

"Peace, Armand… he needed this more…"

Arthur ignored the voices on the other side of the room. His sole focus was the form lying on the bed in their lodge. A well tended fire warmed the room almost to the point of being uncomfortable, and he let the heat seep into his chilled bones. He gripped the hand he was holding tighter, wishing it wasn't so cold, the other hand placed on the boys' chilly brow. Merlin was resting deeply, he could feel it as he maneuvered through the Bond, searching, far too deeply to feel his injuries. They were, in fact, the least of their concerns. But there was no way to tell that to those voices, so he ignored them. He pushed in further, and nearly shouted in glee when he found it.

"What is it you're doing when your eyes glow like that?" Hunith asked, and Arthur startled, looking at her. She was sitting on the other side of the bed, looking at him with open curiosity. "Are you Healing him?"

Arthur shook his head, looking back to his lover, explaining his task even as he went about it. "Not exactly. My power doesn't work like that. There's nothing I can do for his body. But his mind- he was connected to something _very_ dark for a long time. I thought I'd destroyed it, but I can still sense a part of it. I'm looking… yes, there it is… I'm trapping it, isolating it so that it can't reach for him anymore." He expertly wielded the Bond, creating a cage around the small remnant of the crystal's power that had somehow managed to survive his last attack. Around the cage he put safeguards into place, so he'd know if it was ever accessed again. His task complete, he sat up, removing his hand, placing the other back under the blankets piled on to keep the younger man warm. He took a deep breath.

Hunith smiled. "Protecting him."

"Always," Arthur nodded.

_**MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN** _

Merlin woke to the sound of laughter filling the hunting lodge Arthur had built in his Mother's village so many years before. From the smells coming up from the kitchens below him, breakfast was either nearly ready, or was being served now. He was surprised to feel his stomach rumble in anticipation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually _been_ hungry.

"Smells good, doesn't it?"

Merlin turned, saw Arthur seated in a comfortable arm chair next to his bed, long legs stretched across the distance to the bed, his booted feet hooked at the ankles resting on the edge of the bed. He looked like he was merely lounging, but Merlin could pick up the subtle lines of tension in his body. He nodded.

"It does, actually."

Arthur grinned, dropping his legs heavily to the floor, and moved himself so that he was sitting on the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, even as his hands went to Merlin's cheeks, feeling them. He was pleased to feel a healthy warmth in that skin. He had already stripped down to being shirtless, and even then he was aware of a light sheen of sweat on him. He had warmed up much more quickly than the warlock had, thanks to Hunith plying him with warm teas and stew. He'd finally sent the tired woman to bed, swearing he wouldn't leave the room until Merlin woke up.

Merlin frowned. "A little warm, actually." He lifted his arms out from underneath the heavy blankets. Even the warm air in the room felt a little chilly against his bare skin when removed from the pocket of body heat.

Arthur nodded. "You were freezing for most of last night. We had to warm you up. I swear Ian was ready to cut down every tree nearby to keep that fire going." He glanced toward the fire pit. "I managed to stop him from adding more only once I complained that _I'd_ be on offering as the roast for tonight's feast if he made it any hotter."

Merlin tsked. "You could have just ordered him to stop. He doesn't like it when you tease him or threaten him. He doesn't know how to handle it."

Arthur snorted, and decided not to tell his lover that the manservant had turned around and _informed_ him, the King that he was supposedly nervous of, that he would stop once he was sure that a side of roast duckling was _also_ on the menu.

The door opened just then, admitting the very man they'd been speaking about. "Ah, Ian!" Arthur greeted. "Breakfast has arrived!"

Ian nodded to him, then placed the large tray on the table. Arthur expected him to bring them plates, but was surprised when he instead set two place settings at the table, filled those plates, and turned to leave. Obviously, Arthur considered, under orders from Armand to get Merlin up and moving and off his back.

He couldn't help himself, though, when he called out. "And Ian? Open the window a little please," he requested, watching the man effortlessly change his direction. "I think Duckling and I are suitably well cooked."

Ever poised and graceful Ian tripped over air, righting himself and throwing a glare at Arthur as he complied. Arthur had the decency to wait until the servant was out of the room before he laughed. He stopped, though, when he saw his lover glaring at him. "It's just a bit of fun," he defended, standing. He reached out a hand. "Let's get you to that food."

Moving slowly, they were able to get Merlin up and across the room with minimal wincing. He knew Armand didn't want the skin to tighten up as it healed, worried about the thick layers of scar tissue the lacerations had cut through. The Physician had explained as much to him the previous night, and there was a salve on the bed stand that he'd have to put on to keep it softened before Merlin got dressed- an activity he had excused Ian from this morning.

They ate in silence for a moment, Arthur being unwilling to halt the warlock's newly re-discovered interest in food. He noted Ian had been careful in his selections. The plates were filled with lean meats, pickled vegetables and a few slightly storage withered apples. Nothing heavily salted or too rich. It would take time for Merlin's stomach to adjust to eating again after months of nothing but herbal teas and a few bites here and there.

It was Merlin who finally ended the silence with a tired sigh. "You're angry with me," he pointed out, leaning back slightly in his chair. He had noticed a rather distinctive absence when he woke, and for all his teasing this morning, those tensions hadn't left the King's body. Arthur's body was nearly humming with tightly contained energy.

"No, Merlin, I was _angry_ when you were trying to run from me, trying to quietly make sense of a vision you saw in the Cave. I was _angry_ when you tried to find a way to end what we have, based on said vision, I expect. I was _angry_ that you kept that vision secret from me for months, nearly killing yourself in the process," Arthur explained. "I was _angry_ when you left me no choice but to call on an ancient ritual to put an end to it that nearly cost you your life and left you with more scars."

"Arthur-"

"I was _beyond_ anger or even fury, Merlin, when I saw that damned crystal around your neck!" Arthur stood, pacing, as his white hot rage from the moment he saw it returned to him. "How long have you been wearing it?"

"Arthur-"

"Since we fixed the timeline, would be my guess. It explains almost everything, really. Except, of course, what the _hell_ you were thinking? You _know_ how dangerous those crystals are to you!" Arthur growled.

"I had to See, Arthur," Merlin replied quietly. "I had to see if any choice I made changed the future. I thought I could control it."

"That _thing_ was driving your obsession for _months_ , Merlin!" Arthur roared at his lover. "What's worse, you deliberately kept it from me! What would have happened if I hadn't been there when it overwhelmed you? If I hadn't seen it, and hadn't understood you needed the shields? You _do_ remember the part where we're still Linked, don't you? You could have killed us both, and for what? For _what_ , Merlin? What was this vision that managed to so terrify you that you'd throw away everything we are, and could be?"

"Morgana," Merlin answered calmly. He'd never flinched from Arthur's anger and he wasn't about to start. He was satisfied when Arthur stopped pacing, and had turned to him. Was ready to finally listen to what he had to say. "Our final battle is coming. I don't know when, I have no sense of that. The first time I was in the Cave, I saw only me dying." He dared a glance at his King, watching as Arthur's face drained of color, and he sat heavily on the bed. "But after you created the Link, when I connected through the Crystal shard to bring us back through time, I saw it had changed."

"We both died," Arthur breathed out, dropping his head into his hands. It was the only outcome that had the ability to drive his normally strong lover to near insanity with obsession. "Gods, Merlin, why didn't you tell me?" he groaned.

"Would it have changed anything? You know now… are you willing to break the link?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded at Arthur's expression when he raised his head. "I didn't think so. What good would have come from burdening you with that knowledge?"

"What good came of _not_ telling me?" Arthur shot back, his previous anger trying to rise, but failing. A heavy burden indeed. And Merlin had carried it alone, desperately searching for an alternative, keeping his terror to himself. The thought broke Arthur's heart, and it was so typical of the younger man to think he had to protect his King from it, that he couldn't even summon the will to be angry at him for it anymore. He hesitated. "Merlin, do you understand why the Trials let me keep the link?"

Merlin nodded, slowly. "I think so. It's a little easier to think now. I understand it follows along the lines of being two sides of the same coin, Sword and Shield to be flipped as needed, but both sides needed to give the coin value." His expression softened. "I _did_ hear you, Arthur, when I was being whipped. I just couldn't piece it all together. Couldn't find a way to make it fit with what I knew to be true. They pulled me from my vision where I was being tortured by Morgana and straight into yours. The whip was hitting already frayed nerves. My mind was too fractured, just then."

Arthur closed his eyes against the memories. "I'm so sorry for that, Merlin. I thought _I_ would be the one to pay the price. I never meant for you to get hurt. I was just so desperate. I was losing you, and I didn't understand to what or why. I thought that maybe, if the Trials came in my favor, it would be easier for you to accept, to stop fighting against it. I thought the biggest risk was that there was a chance they would fall in your favor, and I'd have been forced to break it." He opened them again when he felt the bed dip next to him as Merlin sat beside him. "If I had known, had thought for even a moment that you would suffer for it…" he moved his hand to brush aside one of the shaggy bangs that had fallen, blocking his view of those exquisitely blue eyes. "I would have found another way."

Merlin's smile was forgiving as he nodded. "I think we'd both do things differently if we could go back." He leaned against his lover, felt an arm carefully wrap around his waist, felt the kiss dropped into his hair. "I should have told you I was using the crystal. The fact that I didn't... it should have been a clue that some part of me _knew_ what I was doing was wrong. I was just so desperate, and that feeling only got worse."

"No more secrets, Merlin," Arthur informed him. "We don't do well when we keep things from each other."

"No more secrets," Merlin agreed. He hesitated. "I know, I messed things up pretty badly, but are we… you know… all right?"

"Merlin," Arthur sighed. "As soon as I don't have to worry about a lecture from Armand, you'll be lucky if I ever let you out of bed again. Months without you was its own kind of insanity."

Merlin laughed. It wasn't perfect. They had some rough spots they needed to get over in the days to come. But for right now, it was Yule, he was with his mother, being held by the man he loved, and their future- whatever may come of it- was together.

"Arthur?"

"Hmmm?"

"I don't _really_ have to collect taxes, do I?"


End file.
